


we don't have ghosts (but our house is haunted)

by BigScaryDinos



Category: BLURRYFACE - Twenty One Pilots (Album), Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Agoraphobia, Alternate Universe - No Band, Disabled Character, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Eating Disorders, F/M, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Disintegration, Mental Instability, References to Depression, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-06-06 03:30:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 16,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15185783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigScaryDinos/pseuds/BigScaryDinos
Summary: “Well haven’t you ever wanted to feel something like that. To make you feel so alive.” Josh stares at them, not sure he’d want to get shot. One near death experience was enough for plenty of therapy sessions. “And I mean I got these cool scars.” Tyler shivers into the touch. "You like them right?"ORLife looks better when we close the blinds.





	1. ○

 

“Let’s not go out tonight.” Tyler’s voice is tiny and far away as it comes through the cracked door. The door is just that, cracked. It isn't open or shut,  just like how Josh feels in that moment. He isn't sure where to go from here. He is willing to listen but unsure where to take the words.  Josh bounces from foot to foot. He made reservations because Tyler wanted them. He doesn’t care either way honestly.  It was enough of a project to speak on the phone to get them in the first place, but if they don’t go it just means fewer people he’ll have to talk to.  It's not a bad option. It's not something he would be upset about. There is no down payment. They simply don't show up. It sounds like as good of a plan as any.

 

“Okay.” Josh agrees, “can I come in?” He doesn’t dare open the door yet, even cracked it is not an invitation. The first rule of humanity is understanding that not saying no doesn't mean yes. The voice is still small, drifting through the open space like spun sugar.  It can be as far away as a different country. It might be.

 

“Uh-huh.” Faint agreement, Josh pushes open the door gently. It's like the door itself is an extension of Tyler, even though it isn't at all. Josh tries to tell himself that and it doesn't work. He treats it as gently as a kiss. It only swings open two feet before getting stuck against a pile of clothes, worn pajamas thrown to the floor. The bed  is the most remarkable thing in the room and it is a mess where a small human shaped lump lays in the center under a nest of blankets.

 

“Can I come in?” Just because he’s in the room doesn’t mean it’s an invitation. Again, not saying no isn't saying yes. He waits and waits and waits more. He can live his life like this. Watching and waiting.  A dirty hand peaks from under the sheets, he sees fingers, the blanket shape moves as it breaths. It’s not an invitation but Josh prepares and strips off his jacket and pants. He’s down to his t shirt and underwear and socks. It’s not sexual. It’s what you wear under the covers. Like a chef hat in the kitchen.

 

“Uh-huh.” Blanket shape moves as not to expose any extra skin but those five fingers attached to the blackened hand indicate the nature of the invitation.  _Come here._   Josh adds his clothes to the pile and kneels on the bed, sinking down into the mattress and then allowing himself to become part of the den. It's like praying but better because there is a payoff. Again, nothing sexual is needed. Just  _being_ is so much of of a payoff he needs. He feels a sheet flutter softly over him and now he can see who he’s been speaking to. Tyler is a dark shape in the darkness of too many covers. His eyes are bright which is odd. It's so odd Josh tries not to think of it at all. He focuses on the dark hands. Then links the hands and face together and lets his mind go blank instead. Safer.

 

“How long have you been under here?” Josh asks, he curls himself into a ball under the sheets. Tyler isn’t Tyler, he’s a shadow with faintly glowing eyes. Sometimes it's scary when Tyler isn't Tyler. It's almost always scary, if Josh is being honest. He can't stop looking away from the eyes that seem to latch onto him.

 

“Shhhh.” He whispers, his fingers reach out to touch Josh’s wrist. They are as cold as ice. Josh stays silent.

 

They stay under the covers until it is sunrise.


	2. ←

 

Josh can’t really tell anyone when they ask about the first time he noticed that Tyler was 'weird'. Maybe the very first time they met, but then again the word ‘weird’ never really went through his mind. ‘Strange’ and ‘unique’ and ‘cute’ maybe. Not ‘weird.’ ‘Special’ for sure. No negatives, only good words. Tyler was that kind of guy who although did not always inspire the typical nice words, rarely provoked bad ones.  There was also the part of Josh that felt guilty in labeling anyone as 'weird.' He had been the brunt of such comments too many times since the accident and here he was, still standing and if you saw him stock still on the street you would never even know he was 'weird'.

  
  
It was sometime in the morning when the sun wasn’t up but you couldn’t really call it night time. Josh couldn’t sleep so he went to Wal-Mart. Josh could never really sleep. It was all twenty minutes in his bed or thirty on the couch or a quick five at his table waiting for his coffee to finish brewing. Today was just another one of the many exhausted days in a long line of exhausted months forming several altogether exhausted years. 

 

His eyes hurt and his head was full of buzzing bees. Nothing was out of the norm. He couldn’t grocery shop during normal hours like a normal person because he wasn't exactly a normal person. The bees got louder around people. More people meant more bees. So he shopped when nobody else did. He lived when nobody else chose to. It was easier that way and better for everyone involved. 

  
  
The whole place was nearly empty today, even the stockers were hiding away and his head was beautifully silent. His cart was sparse. Necessities only. Ramen noodles. Chocolate ice cream. One pack of chicken breasts. Eggs. Two cans Chef Boyardee. Waffle Crisp. 2% milk. Butter. Toilet paper. Coffee. He stood in the cookie aisle, his eyes roaming over the Oreos. His hand hovered out and - 

  
“Don’t get those.”

  
  
“I’m sorry?” He hadn’t noticed anyone. There was no buzzing, hadn’t seen or heard or noticed anyone in the aisle besides himself. He pulled his hand away like he’d been burned.

  
  
“If you want Oreo flavored cookies just get the regular kind.”  Josh Dun didn’t have _normal_ conversations with strangers, his interactions limited to polite dinner conversation between the friends of his friends concerning weather, sports, and jobs. He did not know how to proceed. His eyes were frozen on the selections in front of him. He decided to repeat himself.

  
  
“I’m sorry?”

  
  
“You were going to buy those. Cookie and cream flavored cookies with cream. They’re two dollars more than regular Oreos and taste like regular Oreos.” The voice was to his left but if he looked away from the cookies the buzzing would start and the bees would be furious inside his skull, stinging away in protest. Not the ideal outcome. It didn't hurt anymore than a normal headache but the idea that they didn't even know somebody had infiltrated the base was a funny one. Josh didn't want to poke the bear.

  
  
“Oh.” He said, because he wanted this to be it. This was the end of the conversation. Please don’t wake up. He begged inside his brain.

  
  
“I have an extra coupon if you want it.” The voice was strange, light and airy and melodic. Josh imagined it would belong to something short and skinny with green eyes and light blonde hair. Someone who wore flip flops in October and put their noses in other’s business. The bees, however did not act up and Josh was curious. He just had to know. 

  
  
He turned, bracing himself, putting up his walls against the hive in his head. He was ready for stingers in his cerebrum. There was nothing. Just a man, standing in the aisle with a blue basket.

  
  
His hood was up and he was wearing sunglasses, bright white round rims that made him look like a bug. He was wearing what had to be a woman’s coat, black with flowers down to his knees and dark jeans. No flip flops in sight.  It wasn't October yet, maybe that was the difference. Then Josh thought it wasn’t a hood, instead it was the back of the coat flipped over his head the way a hood would be. Josh looked and looked. Then he looked again. The bees were silent. His eyes ached no more or less than they had before. He didn’t feel icy claws inside his chest.

  
  
“Hi.” He opened his mouth and the word tumbled outside. He looked at the ground for a second as if he could pick it up and put it back inside.

  
  
“Hi.” The man said, he was taller than Josh, still skinny though. His hair and eyes hidden. He pulled a cut out from his basket and his fingers were outstretched, they were dark. So dark in comparison to his skin. Dirty looking. Josh tried not to stare. Instead he stared at one big pink rose on the coat while he took the cutout. The only noise he heard was his heartbeat in his ears. He just knew he felt like an abnormal animal. Yes this man looked different but Josh didn't even know how to talk to another human. 

  
  
“Thank you.” Josh said, attempting normality. 

  
  
“No problem.” Josh looked into the blue basket. Chocolate bars. Twizzlers. Oatmeal raisin cookies. Butterscotch discs. Red Vines. Swedish Fish. Diet Pepsi. Red Bull. A personal cheesecake.

  
  
“Anytime.” The other man said, then he turned with the slightest flutter of his coat and was gone.

  
  
When the bees finally began to buzz Josh was alone.


	3. →

 

Tyler is sitting on the couch, it’s paint stained cushions well broken into.  Josh is kneeling on the floor, sharpening every colored pencil they have left. He needed green sharp, but then he saw how dull red looked, then blue, then purple. It just wasn't fair to pick one color and look the other way for all the others.   


 

“I don’t want to be Tyler anymore.” Tyler says without any fanfare, “at least not right now.” He is laying on his back, looking up through the skylight. It’s the best thing about his apartment, being on the top floor is that one window above him. He opens his mouth to catch the beams of light and trap them between his uneven teeth. Vitamin C. Or D. One of the two. Maybe a little of both.   


 

“Okay.” Josh hums, twisting the pencil against the razor, agreeable to most anything Tyler says. He vocalizes the only issue he finds; “Who are you then?”

 

Tyler twists to the side, watching Josh’s wrist as he rotates the wood. The soft noise the lead makes isn't grating the way it should be. It's the only noise inside the room aside from breathing.   


 

“Let me think about it.” 

 

“Okay.” Josh agrees again, then looks up. “If you’re not Tyler then I shouldn’t be Josh anymore, should I?” He asks, he chews his lip. Tyler looks solemn, then nods. 

 

“I like Josh but I don’t think so. We need to become other people.” Tyler says, the idea sounding grave. “We can still be these people sometimes. But not all the time. When we need to escape.” Josh stops twisting, he looks at Tyler. It makes sense in a weird way that only Tyler could put into words. He nods. 


	4. ←

 

Josh wanted to meet the boy with the strange glasses and beautiful voice again. He went to the same Walmart every day at the same time for two weeks but didn't see him.He haunted the isles like a ghost and let his mind buzz. He loitered by the produce, he fingered bags of starlight mints, he watched the red velvet boxed mixes like a hunter waiting for prey. It didn't matter much because the stranger never showed. He would wait and wait until it was nearly sunrise and the staff would look at him funny. He repeated his routine every single night, until he finally gave up. It was like a double rainbow, a shooting star. Something you can only see once.   


 

Despite all this they met  again at the movies.

 

Josh didn't usually go to movies. When he said usually he meant never. It had been years since he sat down in his plush seat and tried to focus on the screen. It made bees buzz, tied his stomach into tight knots. Being in a dark room with so many strangers and not being able to get up and leave easily gave him a sense of dread. It hurt his chest but his sister was insistent. 

 

“You had one accident - you can't lock yourself up forever, Quasimodo.” She would say while she forced him into nightclubs, restaurants, art exhibits, and shopping malls. “Just let me know if you're okay.” She would say and squeeze his hand in hers.    


 

It was simple, Josh wasn't okay. The very idea of being in public causes his molars to ache inside his skull. He didn't want to talk to people or order meals or buy jeans from the Gap. He didn't need new records or murals or mixed drinks. He could function but he did not want to if he did not have to. Ashley wanted what was best for him, it wasn't her fault he'd been turned into some kind of freak show on the inside. All he wanted was to sit in his all white house, off secluded with all his blinds shut to his invisible neighbors and live out the rest of his days with an occasional trip to Walmart to find the boy of his dreams.   


 

But he did as she said and she led him to the theater to see a horror film about teenagers who had sex then died various gory extravagant deaths. She sat beside him, her friend Jesse on her other side. They shared a tray of nachos. Josh tried to ignore the crunch of chips. He wished he had a seat closer to the isle. He tried not to wonder if he left his stove on. He thought about the expiration date on the milk in his fridge and wondered if it would cause a huge stink by the time he got home.   


 

“I bet the killer is actually the prom queen.” A voice, soft and melodic in his ear whispered. Josh jumped in his seat, barely able to stop his scream. 

 

He turned his head to see the offending mouth and found it was the late night shopper. Dressed differently, a dark black suit with a thin red tie. His glasses still on but his hair exposed, dark. It’s not short, but it’s a perfect length filled with soft semi-curls. If it was longer it’d be curly, but it’s close enough to his head to just run his fingers through if he wanted to. He pulled back. It looked soft.  Was it weird he was looking so longer, Josh didn't know any more. What was weird anyway?   


 

“I'm sorry, didn't mean to scare you.” His seat partner said, his whisper was an addiction. Like eating skittles or trying meth.   


 

“How are you here?” Josh asked, his own whisper hushed. 

 

“I can see movies.” 

 

“Did you come because I was here?” 

 

“That's a bit narcissistic for somebody who I've only met once.” He leaned back in his seat, there was a woman beside him. Beautiful with long honey blond hair, Josh felt the buzz begin before the man leaned forward blocking his view. 

 

“My sister wanted to see this. I saw you. Figured I'd sit here. I can move if you want.” How long had he been sitting there?   


 

Josh felt one of those tendrils unwrap for the oddest of reasons. Sister. Not wife or girlfriend. Sister. Like his. 

 

“It's fine.” 

 

“Fine. What do you think?” That whisper was a drone, a hum, a gentle lap of water against the edge of a empty pool at night. It was soothing and beautiful and Josh wanted more and more and more. He wanted to drown inside of it. What did Josh think. 

 

“You sound like water.” He says, the man next to him turning to look straight ahead at the screen and the killer’s face is reflected in the black sunglasses. “It’s nice.” He confessed. Josh can’t help the flood of his own words as the dam breaks. 

 

“Thank you.” the voice besides him says, instead of  _ what the hell is wrong with you .  _ Josh knows enough that both those are not normal things to say to somebody and also that he has found somebody with a special kind of glow and knowledge. Knows normal people won’t understand or accept or care about the thing he has just said out loud that can be so misunderstood to somebody off the street. “Water is nice.” He says, his head turns back and Josh can see himself in the reflection. He almost doesn’t recognize himself. 

 

“I like talking to you.” Josh says again, there’s not terror in his twin’s eyes like what he sees every morning in the mirror. It’s strange. 

 

“I like talking to you.” 

 

“Can we talk more?”

 

“Of course.” Almost in sync the woman next to the stranger looks at him while Ashley turns to Josh. 

 

“You’ve made a friend?” She asks, her voice buzzing with bees, low and quiet. The bees that weren’t there moments before. Josh can only nod. This is what she wanted, she wanted him to talk to people, get out and do things, meet others. She smiles in the dark. “Good for you guys. Why don’t you go grab a popcorn refill and take him too?” She passes over the tub of popcorn. Jesse laughs on her other side when somebody on screen makes a pun with a knife plunged deep into his ribs. A sense of foreboding as deep as the ocean fills the cavities inside Josh's body and then it's gone. He nods.   


 

Josh stands and his friend stands too, they inch into the aisle and maneuver in the dark down the steps. In the hallway outside it’s too bright. They don’t speak until they get to the concession stand. Josh’s head is pounding when he looks at the line of people. 

 

“What’s wrong?” They don’t have to whisper anymore, but they still do anyway. 

 

“Hate lines.” Josh chops sentences down into bite sized pieces. He shakes his head to rid the space of noise. It doesn’t work. 

 

“Lots of lines.” Stranger states. Josh looks around and yes, there are lines in the arcade, a line to get seated, a line to buy tickets, lines for food. His mouth is dry and the hive is hungry. He nods. “Let’s leave.” He agrees wholeheartedly. 


	5. →

 

 

Tyler’s toes are spread out in a fan across Josh’s bare chest. He’s humming softly to himself and painting his hands. He is letting the thick black tarry paint drip onto his own bare chest. The concave space between his ribs are a Rorschach test. Josh can for sure see at least three butterflies. A knife. A bone. An ice cream cone with rainbow sprinkles. 

 

“I was thinking.” Josh starts, he’s chewing on the end of a Red Vine like an afterthought. When Tyler opens his mouth to speak he’s got Cry Baby Tears lining his mouth like crocodile teeth. 

 

“Okay.” He says, then continues to hum. There’s no tune to it, just his humming up and down, dipping low then reaching peaks. 

 

“We have other names.” Josh finishes, he licks a long strip down the Red Vine then curls it in on itself to make a circle. He wraps it around his wrist. Tyler looks up and his toes jerk in a reaction against Josh’s chest. Ty doesn't move otherwise.   


 

“Explain.”

 

“You’re Tyler right?” He nods. “But sometimes you’re Ty. Sometimes you’re Tyler Robert.”

 

“Only when you hate me.” Tyler says, turning his face back down to his hand. He drags a paint brush between his fingers in long lazy strokes.  

 

“No. I don’t hate you.” Josh whispers back, the Red Vine falls off. Down it travels between the cushions and he doesn’t look for it at all. Lets it get lost in the darkness. “And you call me other things too.”

 

“J. Josh. Joshie. Joshua William.” Tyler lists off, there’s a sick crunch in his mouth as a Cry Baby is loosened from its post and he mashes his real teeth against it. “Those are all  _ our  _ names. I want a new name. For somebody else.” Josh sighs, but understands.   


 

“Okay.” 

 


	6. ←

 

They ended up at a park at sunset. The wind blew the swings back and forth, filled with ghost children. Wood chips snuck into Josh’s shoes and his pockets when he laid on the ground to watch the last clouds blow by. Everything was red until it turned dark blue. 

 

The trees groaned under the strain of the gusts and the body besides him is warm but his fingers are cold when he touches Josh’s neck to feel his pulse, strong and steady. 

 

“Your heart makes me want to sing.” So he does, Josh sits and listens to a song that’s all strange but beautiful warbling and soft moans. It’s a siren song to lure him into craggy rocks but it’s too nice to steer away from so he lays there and listens until he can’t anymore because it sounds a little sad under all the makeshift lyrics. He sits up and tugs on the stranger’s wrist. He complies and they run off towards the edge of the woods together, chased by the park’s lanterns as they flicker into life. 

 

Out of breath and in the dark trees, but just barely they stop with hands on their knees to look at each other. It wasn't a very far run but both arn't used to it. Josh with his aching limp and the stranger just looking like he doesn't come out often. The white glasses are crooked on his face, pushed too far up on one side, sliding down his nose. Josh laughs and it’s the first time he really laughs in far too long. 

 

“That was beautiful.” Josh isn’t sure what his new friend is talking about but he laughs again.  Darker and darker the sun sinks into the horizon and the thick branches above them block out any moonlight until it seems like it's midnight. It’s too dark to see his face, but Josh keeps looking right where he knows it would be if the world were bright. He doesn’t once feel self conscious. The only noise he hears is whispers in the leaves, heavy breathing. He opens his mouth to say thank you. Instead he’s surprised by what comes out. 

 

“Can I kiss you?”  He hasn’t kissed anyone in a long time, let alone a stranger in a dark suit in the dark woods on a dark night. If it was anyone else he was sure he’d be told no. Instead the world is soft for a second. They stand completely silent in the trees. 

 

“Please.”  So he does. 

 

His dark stranger tastes like cherry soda and sour skittles. His lips feel chapped, but it’s not unpleasant. It only lasts for a minute at most but Josh is still breathless when he pulls away. 

 

“I’m Josh.” He says, instead of a thank you. 

 

“I’m Tyler.” Tyler says. “Do you wanna come to my apartment for a little?” 

 

“Oh. Sure.” 


	7. ...

Tyler knocks on his door as if expecting somebody to open it, then turns the knob and steps inside. The room is quiet and empty and there is not a soul around. Josh faintly notes that Tyler just left his door open while he was out for god knows how long.  The thought dissipates quickly while Josh eyes the smaller man. 

 

“The only rule is you can’t lie here okay? No matter what. You can say ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ or ‘No’ or ‘Stop it.’ but you can not lie. Ever. Okay?” Tyler says, twisting around in the tiny space. A fish in a small pond. “Otherwise you gotta go.” Josh nods. He shuts the front door behind him.

 

“Okay. I’m not a liar.” Josh replies. Tyler smiles but it’s off kilter. His glasses are still on and his lips are red from windburn while they ran home. Josh likes the lines of his nose, it’s a strange thing to like but he likes it all the same. 

 

“Never said you were. But.” Tyler stops, twists around on his heels to face the fridge as Josh stands by the door. 

 

“Everyone lies.” Josh finishes. Tyler cocks his head in recognition. 

 

“Exactly.”

 

“I’m not everyone.” 

 

“Didn’t think so.” Tyler’s smile is audible.  Josh starts again.

 

“You aren’t either.” 

 

“Hope not.” 

 

Tyler opens the fridge and brings out two glass bottles of Mountain Dew.  It looks so sweet and artificial in its clear old fashioned glass but Josh takes it. Something about Tyler makes his mouth ache for something filled to the brim with sugar. It’s something in his saliva, he thinks.  He pops the cap and almost takes a sip when his phone vibrates. It’s so shocking because it’s the only noise in the whole room. Josh jumps and looks at his phone. It’s Ashley. He answers. 

 

“Where the hell are you. I’m terrified. Are you okay? Is everything okay? Did you leave? Jesse and I have been looking since the movie ended and he went in the bathrooms and I looked in other theaters and - “ Josh looks out the window and it’s pitch black and he can’t remember what time he’d seen her last. Shit.   


 

“Ashley, I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m here with my friend and we just, it was so crowded. I’m sorry about the popcorn.” Josh answers, the phone sounds staticy but it’s not the line. Just the noise inside his head. It all sucks, this whole thing. Because he's the oldest sibling but his whole family treats him like a toddler. They act like if he leaves their vision he could play in traffic or eat something toxic. If he doesn't call at the right time they'll notify the police.   


 

“Joshua, I could care less about the popcorn. I was worried about you. Do you need me to come pick you up?” The noise of a million voices in the background. Josh looks up at Tyler, leaning against the countertop and listening to this whole interaction. He shrugs and takes a pull on his soda. 

 

“No, it’s okay. If it’s okay with you I might stay for a little while.” Tyler smiles. 


	8. →

 

Josh is sitting on the floor completely naked. Tyler is across from him, much the same. This is like a gameshow but only between the two of them. The prize is knowledge.   


 

“How about this one?” Tyler asks, his fingers touch the tiny little hole under his lip. It’s almost centered, but it’s just slightly off to one side.   


 

“I pierced my lip. When I was in high school.” If it sounds that stupid it is true. There is never any lies inside the Tyler castle.   


 

“How?” 

 

“With a big ugly sewing needle. My mom was so mad.” Josh wants to reach up and feel it, make sure it’s still there, just a tiny little white indent that nobody even notices anymore. He can still remember how it felt, he’d been with some girl who told him it would look _awesome._   That was the exact word she used and if he was smart he would understand then that her opinion might not be the best.They were in his bathroom at his house and she held the ice on it while he tried to imagine what it would feel like to have something always there.  He pictured it like a tooth until it wasn't a tooth at all. He can’t remember her name but can remember exactly how the needle felt going through. “I kept it in for years through.” She slid one of her own earrings into the hole after he took out the needle. She whispered in his ear and promised it was clean. She kissed his bloody mouth and to a teenager that alone was worth the risk.   


 

“Why?” Tyler’s thumb rubs over it again and again. He would rub it right off his face if he kept trying.   


 

“Thought it looked cool. Though it made me look older."   


 

“Did it?”  Tyler’s thumb stops for a second, feels Josh’s lips like a blind man would. 

 

“Not exactly. I thought it did, but it wasn’t lined up and most of the time I had bits of my lunch dangling off it.” 

 

“Why did you take it out?”  This is one of those times Josh almost lies, but he doesn’t want to really. He can’t even think of a lie, so he just shakes his head. 

 

“No choice, they cut it out during the accident.”

 

“You never talk about that.” Tyler says, his fingers still resting on Josh’s lips, Josh kisses the tips softly. 

 

“My turn. Too many questions. You are overstepping your turn.” Tyler pouts, but accepts and pulls his hands back, propping himself up on them and leaning back, letting Josh’s eyes roam. They rest on his taut abdomen. 

 

“These.” Josh says, his fingers graze over a handful of white and brown flecks on Tyler’s right side, near his rib cage.  To an untrained eye they might look like freckles, but Josh knows Tyler doesn’t have any of those. Not anywhere. He’s even checked the back of his kneecaps. Tyler laughs and leans forward into the touch. Josh leaves a fingerprint on each dot. 

 

“That’s more than one.”

 

“They all look like they’re from the same thing.” Josh says, Tyler gives a sly smile.   


 

“Zack shot me once.” It’s cool and calm. Josh doesn't want to have his jaw drop like a cartoon character but can't help it.   


 

“Shot you?” Josh’s index rests against a large spot that could almost pass for the shape of a cat. The center of the constellation.

 

“With a pellet gun.” 

 

“Why?” 

 

“Because I dared him to.” 

 

“And what did you get out of that dare?” Josh asks, his fingers tracing lightly, gently over and over. Tyler smiles the kind of smile Josh only sees during sex or in the middle of some ugly scheme. It makes Josh want to stop the game and fuck him right there on the floor while talking about robbing banks like Bonnie and Clyde.   


 

“Well haven’t you ever wanted to feel something like that. To make you feel so alive.” Josh stares at them, not sure he’d want to get shot. One near death experience was enough for plenty of therapy sessions. “And I mean I got these cool scars.” Tyler shivers into the touch. "You like them right?"  For the first time during the game Josh sees a shadow of doubt pass Ty's face.   


 

"I love them." He growls hungry, pouncing forward and ignoring his screaming lower half. He rests himself on Tyler, feeling the breathy laughter under him. Being skin to skin, laying on the floor, feeling his body burn from contorting into unfamiliar positions...there is nothing better and the words ring so true he has to say them again. 

 

 


	9. ↻

Before Tyler came along, Josh could count the times he’d had sex since the accident on one hand.  


 

First was the night before the funeral. He’d left the wake in a wheelchair and wheeled himself to the closest bar he could find in Cleveland with his dead best friend’s now ex in tow.  They debated for along time once they were tipsy if she was an ex or a widow. _Ex seems wrong._ She said, eyeliner streaks staining her face. _I think I'm too  young to be a widow._ They took shots until they were strangers, then fucked in the handicapped bathroom. Josh almost cried because of how much it hurt his hips when she got on top of him, but he shut his mouth and suffered through it. She rode him softly with her legs spread as wide as she could without resting her weight on him but he still couldn’t come. She felt much the same and ended up leaving after a few minutes. 

 

“I’m sorry.” She was crying, tying her hair back out of her face while she looked in the mirror and not at him. “This was all a mistake.” Her breath smelled like vomit and tequila. People couldn’t look at him because his face was still a mess of bruises from the wreck. Would be a mess for a while. She couldn’t either. He told her it was okay. What else could he say. 

 

He was late to the funeral the next day because he couldn’t stop throwing up on himself. 

 

The second time was a guy he met at rehab. He knew how to walk, but his legs forgot sometimes since the surgery. Hips and screws and long bones and metal rods were not a fluid system. As long as it was paid for he couldn’t escape one of his siblings dragging him to the gym three times a week. Jordan would drop him off sometimes, then show up thirty minutes late with coffee. Ashley would read a book out in the car. Abby would sit and watch and cheer him on but she was usually in school. His dad took him once and that was the worst time of all, where everything was much too silent and awkward.   


 

A guy he met was just a fancy way of saying his physical therapist. 

 

“Josh, you’re doing so well.” He’d say, and he’d be able to look him in the eyes. Josh felt like he was two inches tall but he struggled and was met with praise from the guy who always was there to help.  “Baby steps.” he would say. “Take it one day at a time.” Generic phrases sprinkled with nicknames for him. “You’re making amazing progress.” His name was something with a B but Josh couldn’t remember it anymore. Couldn’t remember a lot of things. It wasn't something he felt required to recall so he let it slip.   


 

Head trauma, no matter how brief can do that. 

 

He could remember when his trainer finally asked him if he wanted to go out sometime. It was when Josh was finally walking around, unsteady on occasion but on his own two feet. He felt a little more human and people treated him the same...sometimes. He couldn’t drive. If he were able he’d never be able to bring himself to do it, so B-something asked if seven was a good time to pick him up. 

 

Josh still can’t tell you what they did that night as far as date would be concerned, only knowing that they ended up on B’s back porch with all the lights off.  _ Roommate is home .  _  He was told as B slid off his pants and laid on the outdoors couch out of sight of the street. Josh took too long to lay down on top of him, trying to shift his hips into a comfortable position, so when he finally could manage to move without his bones popping out from under his skin B’s erection was gone. The mood wasn’t the same. The romance and spur of the moment passion has vanished into the night.   


 

“I don’t know if this is going to work.” He said, but kept kissing Josh’s jawline like an apology. They finally agreed to try it, just for the sake of Josh’s sanity after his insistence. 

 

“I don’t want a god damn pity fuck but listen, my dick still works. You just have to give me some time.” He had worked up a fine film of sweat by the first few thrusts. He bit his lip and tried not to focus on the burning in his stomach and thighs. His hands worked on B’s cock, and when he finally managed to come after what felt like years Josh stopped, exhausted. B’s ass clenching rhythmically around his cock wasn’t enough to push him anywhere at all. It had all felt more like a chore than anything else. He pulled out without fanfare and struggled not to roll off the few precious inches of couch he had. 

 

“I can - um, finish you up if you want.” B said, his eyes half lidded as he laid on the cushions. Josh wiped his hands off on his jeans. 

 

“No, it’s okay. I’m good. I just need to use your bathroom okay?”  Josh asked, taking a few moments too long to stand and right himself, tugging his pants back into place. He ran his hands through his hair. 

 

“Uhhh.” Almost on cue a light turned on somewhere inside the house. A woman’s voice. 

 

“Honey, is that you?” She sounded young, much younger than either of them. A baby’s shrill cry followed. B looked up at Josh and offered a half smile as in  _sorry, friend. What can you do? _

 

Josh stayed quiet and limped to the street feeling like he was two inches tall. He had to call and Uber because he was too ashamed to call his family and he had no friends left. The world buzzed around him. 

 

The last time was about a year ago, his ex came into town for a wedding. Her sisters or cousin or somebody and she asked Josh if she could stay at his place. Sorry, she had no plus one since she was in the wedding party. Josh felt it was only right he let her sleep on the bed and he would take the couch in his bare apartment. 

 

Sometime around one am she snuck into his arms wearing nothing at all. It reminded him of when things were okay and he was a different person. Happier and whole. He liked it and let her lay there, just feeling skin against skin but he wasn’t entirely sure. She told him she missed him and he let himself believe it for a few hours. 

 

It was better when he just laid down, flat on the couch and she crept on top of him, her shape only real in the glow from the kitchen. She bunched her hands in her hair, against his chest. To be fair Josh rocked his hips against hers as well as he could manage, her fingers found his thighs to hold onto.  Her nails scraped against long scared lines. He almost liked it, liked the friction he’d been missing. 

 

She said she loved him and she never meant to leave him or hurt him or anything at all and he let the words wash over him like water. 

 

In the morning she and all her bags were gone. 


	10. ○

It's warm and the air is still and stiff inside the bedroom. 

 

“Why don’t you like lines?” Tyler asks, he tries to fold a shirt into a neat little square but it looks more like a ball. He unrolls it and looks at it, then lays it on the bed and tries again. Josh is sitting near the pillows watching. “I mean nobody likes waiting but you're different.” There is no hint of scorn and anger in the voice. Nothing mocking. Nothing filled with pity. If all conversations with all people were like this Josh would be much more talkative.   


 

“Everyone looks at me. And the noise.” Honesty usually comes easier here, it’s like they live inside a vacuum. There is no reason to lie at all. No judgement passed.Some buzzes by Josh's head and he makes a conscious decision not to look. If it's real or just inside of him he'd rather not know.   


 

“People noise?” 

 

“Uh. Well, kind of?” Josh thinks out loud. He’s not lying, just not sure how to talk about it. “Not like talking, more like uh. Like mosquitoes or bees or flies.” He tries, unsure how Tyler will take it.  Tyler is still trying his hand at the shirt almost uninterested but still listening.

 

“You hear bugs?” 

 

“Yeah. But like not real bugs.” Josh says, he plays with the edges of the bed sheets. “They’re bugs inside my head.” He can’t look at Tyler, who isn’t really even looking at him. “Like a whole hive in there and when people talk they buzz.” Josh tries. “And like they’re imaginary, like I know that. I understand there’s not like a swarm around my head all the time. They’re not real.” He emphasizes. He isn't crazy. He can draw a line between what he knows is fake and what is physical and some days it's easier and some days it's harder.  

 

“If you hear them and they’re inside your head they’re still real. You’re not crazy.” Tyler folds the arms back into the shirt. He says it so easily. “If they’re real inside your head they’re real.” Josh tries to look at his face but he’s squinting at the balled up shirt like it’s a puzzle. Times like this he’s sure he can tell Ty anything at all and it would be wordlessly accepted. “So they’re always buzzing?” 

 

“Almost.” Josh says. Tyler finally stops, looking disgustedly at the fabric before tossing the yellow shirt into the corner of the room on top of four other clean shirts laying haphazardly on the ground that also did not pass the fold test. “They don’t buzz around you. Not once since I met you.” 

 

“The hive must like me then.” Tyler says, grinning. He gets on his knees and crawls up the bed to meet Josh. He plants a soft chaste kiss against his forehead, letting his lips stay a second or two too long before he pulls away. He’s smiling like a madman when Josh can finally see his face again. “Good thing I’m not allergic.” 


	11. ←

 

 

“Do you ever take those things off?” Josh asked, mid kiss. The lights were all down in the room because his shirt was laying over the lamp shading everything in a grey dark haze.  

 

“For you, babe, I can take off anything.” Tyler mumbles, finally taking the white framed glasses off. He sets them on the side table of the bed carefully like they’re made of diamonds. His eyes are shut when he turns back. 

 

“We’re about to -  well I think we’re about to have sex and I had no idea what you look like under those.” Josh says, returning to the kiss with his own eyes shut. Tyler tongues his mouth hungrily. When Josh pulls away Ty’s eyes are still shut, not squinting or forcefully, just shut. No sign of opening anytime soon. If he were a store the hours wouldn't even be posted.   


 

“It’s not you. It’s just, everything sorta.” Ty responds to the unasked question.   


 

“Everything?” 

 

“Uh.” 

 

“What’s that mean?” Josh pulls away just enough so they have enough space between the two. He’s patient because he has to be, because he wants this to be _right_. He doesn’t want any more guilt or tears or pity fucks because of the screws inside him. Tyler keeps his eyes shut while he struggles for words. It's like the metal inside his body is working inside Tyler's head and he can see the gears grinding on each other.  


 

“I’m afraid.” He finally manages, his eyes never opening a crack. 

 

“We can stop if you’re not ready.” Josh presses his lips as a reassurance against Tyler’s face, just soft pressure against a cheek to tell him it’s okay. Josh wants to take his time and if it’s not the right time he’s not in a rush. 

 

“No, not that.”

 

“Why are you afraid?” Tyler, who has not once struggled is now grasping at straws. Josh waits, close enough but a step back. They stand in the doorway of the bedroom like sentinels. 

 

“I don’t see things right.” Tyler starts. Josh waits. Tyler talks again when he’s ready. It could be ten seconds or ten years and it wouldn’t matter an inch. “It’s like, weird. I’m sorta weird.” His voice wavered for a second, then continued. “Everything is blurry, usually. People, faces. Light gives me headaches, outside especially. Makes the blur worse.” Tyler stops, his voice getting smaller and smaller. “The glasses help. If I can’t see faces I don’t know if they’re blurry or not. Makes everything fuzzy enough so I can’t tell if it’s me or not.” His eyes shut tighter.  


 

“So you don’t want a headache?” Josh says, trying to figure it out. 

 

“I don’t want to see you, blurry.” Tyler says. "Everything is blurry. And if I have to see it, it hurts."  


 

"You're head?"

 

"Seeing you blurry might hurt my heart."  The two stop for a second or two, Josh looking into the shut eyes and Tyler trying not to breath too fast. 

 

“Have you seen me at all yet?” Josh asked, suddenly just a little confused. 

 

“Uh, yeah. I can kinda see you. Not details, but I can sorta like, see um.” Tyler struggles, his hands clutching each other. “Sorta like an aura. But I haven’t seen your face yet. I’m afraid I won’t see it. You’ll just be blurry.” Josh waits, his fingers outstretched to touch Tyler’s nervous knuckles. 

 

“We won’t know until we try. Is everyone blurry always?” Josh asked, Tyler nods, his face almost a mask of pain. “We should try it.” He says again. Tyler shakes his head like a dog from side to side. 

 

“But I like you. I don’t want to ruin it. People have been...out of focus for so long."  

 

“It won’t ruin things.”  Tyler just clenches his eyes shut tighter and tighter, lines furrowing his brow from his forced concentration. “Besides I want to see your eyes. They’re beautiful.” 

 

“You haven’t seen them yet.” Tyler says, chewing his lip nervously. Josh pressing his lips against Tyler’s jaw. 

 

“I know they’re beautiful. They’re yours. I just want to see them. Please.” Tyler laughs, shudders into the sensation of lips against skin. He finally nods, once. Josh steps back, arms distance almost. 

 

“Don’t let go.” Tyler whispers, almost to himself, Josh’s fingers tighten around the dark ones in his hands. He opens his eyes. 

 

Josh in theory understood the idea that a person’s face could _light up._ He assumed since reading and hearing and listening to those comments that it would make a person _seem_ happy. A person could light up in mood. But watching Tyler’s eyes open for the first time, he saw the words become physical. 

 

His face changed, his entire being seemed to glow from the inside out. His eyes were lamps, dark dusky brown that seemed to radiate in the blackened room. He, as a person became something more than himself. He _was_ light. 

 

Tyler laughed, high, loud, honest laughter that made his face split into a grin, his eyes still beacons. 

 

“I thought for sure you would have green eyes.” Josh said, as Tyler sprang forward, peppering kisses all over his face and chest, his neck and ears and forehead and nose. 

 

“I can see you. You’re fine. You're perfect.” He hummed into his ear, sang softly against his lips, pressed the words like ruins into his chest. The swarm didn’t make a sound.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of high right now? Sorry/notsorry.


	12. ...

 

 

“What scares you most about out there?” Tyler tosses his head casually over his shoulder towards the darkened window. The thick dark brown blanket is draped over it  but it’s understood that even if they can’t see it, the world is still turning. Josh can’t remember if it’s daytime or nighttime. It doesn’t matter somehow. 

 

“Scares me?” Josh asks, he’s tapping his fingers against a wild mishmash of pots he’d found and he’s banging out a lazy rhythm. It doesn't sound like a song, but it doesn’t sound like noise. Things are weird in Tyler's apartment.   


 

“J, listen, most people wouldn’t wanna hole up here with me.” Tyler gives a lazy smile as he bends in front of the refrigerator. Every motion grandiose while Josh stares at his exposed hipbones, bared like fangs at him. When he straightens his shirt will fall back into place. For now Josh enjoys the view. Ty digs through the shelves until he discovers a small container of butter and a jar of jelly. He pulls them out and puts them on the counter. 

 

“I want to be here with you.” Josh’s fingers falter on his beat. Tyler finds a loaf of bread on the counter, he pulls out a slice from it’s plastic wrapping. Instead of looking for a knife he dips his darkened fingers into the butter leaving a messy black streak in the yellow. He swipes his greasy finger across the slice of white bread.  

 

“Never said you didn’t.” Tyler repeats the same process with his fingers dipping in the blood red jelly. Josh tries not to stare but the contrast is stunning. Pop Art in the kitchen between Tyler’s knuckles. Yellow and red and black like a rainbow of sugar and paint. Tyler watches Josh watching him. Josh doesn’t open his mouth, instead he stills as Ty walks the distance between the two and extends his dirty fingers to Josh. 

 

“Suck, please?” He wiggles his fingers in front of Josh’s mouth, writhing little snakes. Josh doesn’t really want to taste the thick syrupy paint but Tyler’s skin covers the taste so he slips the fingers between his lips and lets his tongue run over all the cracks and lines until he can’t taste anymore sugar. Josh thinks about diabetes and lead poisoning but he mostly thinks about all the parts of Tyler he loves to have inside his mouth.  Tyler tugs his nearly bare fingers out almost unwillingly and heads back to his bread, small flecks of black paint still clinging to the unhealed papercut spaces. 

 

“I’m afraid of the time I lose, out there.” Josh says, he taps a beat out, messy and fast. His eyes on the cast iron on the floor around him. It’s becoming a guilty song on the floor. 

 

“What happens?” Tyler asks, a mouthful of white bread. A pink stain on his white tank top. Greasy butter marks just above his hips. Josh licks his lips. 

 

“I stand there and think it’s only been a minute, then somebody asks if I’m okay because it’s been thirty. Or I forget where I am, or where I’m going. But not normal forget. Major forget. Forget entire states or cities. I don’t remember what people ask or who a face belongs to. It’s March today then June tomorrow and it’s my birthday and I’m a year older and haven’t done anything but buy groceries and sleep and shit and inch towards the dirt.” His song is thumping louder and louder. Tyler flinches against his voice and fingers but refuses to change the subject to something more palatable.  

 

“Okay. There’s no time inside here.”

 

“What’s that mean?”

 

“Let’s live now. Why do we need to know it’s six at night or July or Tuesday. None of it matters.” Tyler stuffs the rest of the bread into his mouth, his cheeks balloon out. He swings around and sits on top of the countertop. “Who even decided that?” It’s muffled and crumbs spew out, he swallows rapidly in several large gulps. 

 

“Decided what?” 

 

“Time. It’s fake.”  Tyler says, his feet kicking up and down, his heels smacking softly in a rhythm all their own to Josh’s. “What’s real is what we say is real. We don’t need months or days or years.” Josh grins, it sounds like a lovely idea. No more stalling for time or counting the seconds until another date he can’t quite remember. 

 

“Okay.” 

 

Tyler’s smile lights up his eyes, or maybe it’s the other way around. 

 

“Now, I think it's time for you to come here and kiss me.” Josh stands up and does exactly that, and when he pulls away from Tyler’s lips he sees a smear of yellow and black and red. Tyler grins with black teeth. 

 

 


	13. →

 

“Your skin is a like a map.” 

 

“Huh?” Josh asks as he feels Tyler's closed lips ghost over his back, touching each freckle with reverence. 

 

“It's like a map. It's where you've been.” He kisses a shoulder blade, pale and muscular. “Where your going.” His lips drag across the bumps of a spine. 

 

“That sounds like something you've heard out of a lifetime movie.” Josh laughs and can feel Tyler hum either approval or amusement into his back, he continues his path. 

 

“Maybe, maybe.” He says, and there are no lies here so maybe just maybe is an okay answer. “But your skin is a map - and I want to mark all the best spots.” Tyler drags his fingers up, touches Josh's chest blindly with his mouth still pressed to his bare back. It's all skin to skin. 

 

“Hmmmm.” Josh replies because he doesn't know what else to say as Ty's fingers explore his body as a cartographer. 

 

“Ahhh,” Ty says as his hands finally trail down his chest, to rest on the patch of thick and curly hair between Josh's thighs. Down an inch to feel the base of his throbbing cock begging for direct contact. Josh isn't even sure when that happened. 

 

“And here it is,” his smile fills the room inside his voice, “X marks the spot. Buried treasure.” 


	14. →

Josh wakes up at least once every other night since he’s been with Tyler. He doesn’t sleep often, doesn’t feel the tug of slumber at his brain or the burning inside his eyes that makes him want to shut them. If anything he usually feels the urge to push himself to stay awake longer and longer to beat his own records. Curled up with Tyler things feel different though, so he tries the sleep routine. 

 

Tyler likes sleep though. He’s a sleeper in the middle of the day, he can sleep well into late morning, wake up and eat or shower or masturbate lazily on the couch under Josh’s watchful gaze, then take a nap for hours at a time without ever fully removing himself from his activity of choice only to wake up hours later and repeat the cycle until the day is gone.  He yawns more than he breaths sometimes. His eyes stay half lidded for weeks and never seem to open fully. Some days his naps last all day and night and Josh thinks he’s asleep for years. Some days are different and Tyler wakes up and the two of them stay awake for what seems like decades. 

 

Once time is gone they sleep when they’re tired without waiting for darkness and wake up when they want. They both decided to lay down after watching a particularly competitive episode of Family Feud. 

 

Things are going well, until Josh wakes up. Something is hitting him. Hard.

 

He thinks he’s in a dream, or a nightmare. Trapped in between this world and some other one in the dark. He can feel his stomach churning because it’s too dark, he always leaves the TV on at night but it’s off now - all the lights are off. He wants to find the remote inside the mess of sheets but something is more pressing. It’s the feeling inside his head that something is wrong. 

 

Then there’s something next to him, hitting him in the arm, the shoulder, the side of his chest. 

 

He rolls to his side and it’s Tyler, his hands clenching and unclenching, reaching out and hitting at anything. Then his stomach churns for an entirely different reason. He’s never been a doctor or nurse or EMT. He’s only ever watched untold stories of the ER. But this looks like a seizure with Tyler there, jerking on the bed like he can’t help it, his eyes shut tight, his breathing coming out in stilted groans through pursed lips. The only light to see  at all comes from the other room, the door left open painting half of Tyler in dark shapes and shadowy  figures. Horror movie. Possession. Sickness. Diseases. All the words run together in Josh's mind until he's scared to even think.   


 

He doesn’t know what to do exactly so he jumps out of bed, slamming his foot so hard against the end table he’s sure he hears something crack. He hits the switch for overhead lights so fast he almost takes off a fingernail on the hard plastic. Then he’s on the bed, kneeling on top of Tyler, his hands shaking him. 

 

“Tyler, Tyler, Tyler Robert. Wake up. Tyler wake up. Tyler, wake the fuck up.” He’s shouting so loudly that there’s a faint pounding on the front door.  He doesn’t care who he wakes up, doesn’t care who breaks in, doesn’t care at all. He shakes Tyler who is already shaking worse than anything Josh has ever seen, worse than Josh is right in that moment. His fingers are turning white as he’s holding onto Tyler's shoulders, his foot is as good as amputated for how much feeling he has in his own body. 

 

A hand comes out from under him, Tyler’s bare, clean hand and punches him hard - in the face. It lands on his left eye and he sees stars even as Tyler opens his eyes. His mouth opens in a surprised O with his too red lips. 

 

“Joshua, what the hell are you doing?” Ty’s voice is loud and gravelly with sleep and anger.

 

“You were - um - I think you were.” Josh can’t talk, his palm pressed into his eye, suddenly with the crisis diverted the pains creep into him. His hips and foot and face, there will be bruises on him later. 

 

“Can you get off me please?” Tyler’s voice is dangerous. He’s much smaller than Josh in most ways but when his voice is that deep and dark it’s almost like the body it comes from doesn’t matter.  “I can’t breath.” Josh rolls off him onto his side of the bed, the covers tossed around like a hurricane had passed through. He discovers the familiar plastic shape of the remote pressed into his back. 

 

“Sorry. I thought, I didn’t think - “

 

“No, you didn’t think if you want to sit on me when I’m sleeping.” 

 

“You were shaking.” Josh mutters, he lays on his back and looks at the ceiling, it’s plain white. A water stain grows in the corner of the room. 

 

“Nightmare.” Tyler mumbles and rolls onto his side, he tucks his feet under him and becomes a small lump on his half. Josh lays with his eyes open. Eventually the disgruntled neighbor leaves. This is the first time Josh thinks Tyler isn't telling a full truth. They fall asleep with the lights on. 

 

 


	15. ○

 

“What do you miss most? About out there.” They’ve decided enough was enough and hung up thick blankets over all the windows except the skylight. Tyler can’t bring himself to cover that one up in any way, he lays under it with his glasses on and stares into the sun until he falls asleep.   


 

Josh thinks it’s cheating. If it’s not overcast they can tell if it’s day or night. Lately they haven’t been getting out of the bedroom much, so he lets it slide.   


 

“Not much,” Tyler says, but Josh knows not much doesn’t mean nothing. He waits though, he’s always been good at just sitting and watching, waiting, being still. Tyler though, he moves. So he’s the first to break. 

 

“Nighttime.” He says, reluctantly. “Stars. The sky. It was my favorite part of the day.” He says, propping himself up on the couch cushions. “Why?” 

 

“Just wondering.” 

 

It only takes a few more seconds before they slip back into the bedroom without another sound. 

 


	16. →

 

“Did you think at all about your new name?” Josh asks as Tyler steps out of the tub, dripping and naked behind him in the mirror. He plucks at a stray hair in his eyebrow that is standing straight up. He doesn’t ever look at his whole face, just little pieces one at a time. It’s easier that way. Not the picking out hairs part, but the part where he prefers not to meet his own eyes. He sees the sharp lines of Tyler's hips and it makes his head start to pound as the blood leaves it little by little.  Josh turns and watches the free show, the exhibitionist that lives deep down inside Ty smirks and licks his bottom lip.   


 

“Yeah. I did.”  Comes the answer. One of the only times he ever sees Tyler’s bare fingertips anymore is when he’s fresh out of the shower.  He can remember a time when it wasn't that way, when there wasn't tarry black paint on everything they owned. It's okay, he doesn't mind cleaning dirty fingerprints off his body when he washes up at the end of the day. Ty tries to grab a towel from on top of the toilet, but Josh grabs it away and dances out of reach. He laughs. He smiles. He pulls away and Tyler follows, his skin soaked. One is always leading, one is always following. It's never a fair game.   


 

“What’s it gonna be?” He teases, the towel pressed behind him, Tyler looks at him, his eyes narrow into predatory slits, he bears his teeth. It's fun and games until it isn't. Until it's dangerous and damning and it's not nice anymore.   


 

“I want you two to meet sometime.” His voice takes on a strange quality, for a second just a half tone deeper, meaner. It's not the kind of voice that Josh ever really hears. It's a hidden away secret in a place that has none. Then it’s gone and Tyler’s eyes are burning as he presses himself against Josh, leaving a Tyler shaped wet mark on his clothes. His teeth are joking as he nips at Josh’s neck. “I don’t want that anyways.” He hums into Josh’s ear as his damp fingers pull down Josh’s dirty sweatpants and sinks to his knees. 

 

Josh pretends like it didn’t scare him. 


	17. ←

 

 

They’d been together for a few days when they both decided to stop using their phones. It’s not really a hard choice. It isn't even much of a choice at all. It's a mutual decision to just drop them and become islands. They can still use them _ if _ they have to, if somebody needs to get in contact with them, to order food and clothes and bedsheets and lightbulbs offline. Sex toys once... _or twice_. 

 

But they don’t need them anymore for day to day life. Those two little screens are stealing all their moments. Tyler orders Dominos off his phone then after all the pizza is gone they color the box from white to neon pink with sharpies. They draw little cartoon caution tape lines around it. Then they put their phones inside and slide it under the bed with them both off. The curl up on top of the sheets and pretend they’re cavemen. 


	18. →

 

 

It’s hard to surprise somebody who is always in the room with you. The surprise is a little easier when said person is big on sleeping. One day when Tyler is asleep Josh decides to do it. He looks over at Tyler at least every other second, making sure his eyes are still shut and his breathing is still regular.  He stops any time he sees movement. A sneeze or scratching his arm - it causes Josh to freeze up lie he's been caught doing something wrong.    


 

It’s hard to balance, since he’s moved in with Tyler he’s mostly forgotten the pains in his legs. Instead, he just adapts and Tyler expects nothing more than what he’s willing to give. He doesn't have to be uncomfortable if he doesn't want to be. He doesn’t have to push himself to run marathons.   


 

But today he’s pushing, standing on the paint stained couch cushions, then stepping onto the end tables, then the coffee table. When he can’t reach a spot he pushes the table across the floor as quietly as he can then gets back up. He drips black all over himself, all over the floor, all over the tables. Then white little flecks. Then small yellow dots. He swirls in purples and blues and dark, dark reds.  Josh himself looks like the human equivalent of a bruise.  All the colors stain him until he's one big black eye with legs.   


 

He works until the sunlight streaming in through the skylight fades away. He works until his hands hurt. He works until his toes ache from standing on his tip toes. 

 

Then he works some more. 

 

When Tyler makes some kind of wake up groan Josh sits by his side of the bed and pushes his dirty fingers over Ty’s eyes. It's his turn to have them dripping in black.   


 

“Surprise. No looking.” 

 

Tyler lets out a dissatisfied grunt in response but compiles, sitting up while letting Josh shield his face. He allows himself to be led out of the bedroom, through the cracked door and into the massive room that serves all other functions. Josh takes his fingers away from Tys eyes. 

 

He hits the lights. He waits. Tyler stays quiet. Josh wants to remind him that in here there’s no lying but Tyler made the rule so there’s no point. He waits. Tyler looks up, the sky a mix of night time colors, Christmas lights twinkle on and off among the black and blue. Josh thinks it looks like the night they ran away together. 

 

Tyler turns around and his eyes are unreadable and moist. Josh is suddenly terrified. He opens his mouth to say he’s sorry but finds Tylers on his instead and he can’t breath. 

 

“I love you.” Tyler mouths against Joshs open mouth. He says it again and again and again. He doesn't stop, even when he's being a touch too loud and the downstairs neighbors pound on the ceiling so it shakes their floor.    


 

That’s the first night the fuck on the floor under the open sky. 


	19. ←

 

They collapse on the bed, Josh pressing his knees against the mattress and letting the air catch him with Tyler underneath. His eyes glow in the dark and his lips taste like candy. He tastes like candy.  The world seems to spin all on it's own.   


 

“Gosh I want you.” Tyler says his fingers catching in Josh’s belt loops trying to tug him in before Josh pulls away from his hungry mouth. 

 

“Did you just say ‘gosh’?” 

 

“Is that an issue?” He smiles like a shark. Josh shakes his head. Smiles back. 

 

“Not at all.” He leans in and let his mouth work against the other in the dim glow of the moonlight. He kisses and kisses and kisses. He licks and sucks. His teeth graze teeth and tongue. Then he moves down and they graze the skin of a neck and he hears delicious moans. Fingers tangle in his dark hair. He doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to leave this moment. He leaves dark red blooming bruises where his lips touch. He nips where he can, he moans into the soft, salty skin under him that tastes too good to be real. 

 

“Gosh, you’re good at this.” Tyler’s voice is a cracked ruined mess. Josh smiles and laughs into the spaces of his collarbones and tries not to pull away. He hasn’t heard a voice like that since he was in highschool. He is almost honored by the praise.   


 

“Thank you.” He hums, his fingers pull Tyler’s buttons away from his shirt, through the little holes and away from his skin. He heaves underneath him, humming his contentment with little gasps and purrs when Josh does anything that has to do with skin to skin contact. He leaves the little red tie in place, likes the way it looks around Tyler’s neck with nothing else around. The bare red fabric stark against the pale skin.   


 

He kisses down his chest, then back up and when he finds lips again he plays with dress pants buttons. The double, inner - outer trap that always seems to get stuck. He presses his nails against the buttons and finally they, too, work in his favor. He slips those through the correct holes. The zipper is too loud in the silence. 

 

That’s an issue, it’s silence now. No humming or moaning, nothing. Josh reaches one hand down between Tyler’s legs, finds cotton under his palm and a hardness neither of them can deny. 

 

Josh slides out of his pants and boxers as gracefully as he can. They tangle around his ankles but it doesn’t matter much, he sucks Tyler’s bottom lip between his and waits for him to make a sound, but he doesn’t. He leans down, lets the bare skin of his cock touch Tyler’s bare leg, feels him stiffen under the touch. He opens his eye and finds Ty’s shut tightly again. 

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hey.” 

 

“Are you sure you wanna do this? We can stop if you want.” Josh tries to sound calm, it’s hard when this is the first time in months he’s actually had human to human contact with somebody outside of his family. The first time in a very long time he’s actually enjoyed. Somebody he actually wants to be with, be around, talk to.He can pull away, he’ll end up locked in the bathroom with his hand on his dick, but he still has the self control to stop. 

 

“No, no, it’s okay.” Tyler tries to grin, it doesn’t look okay though. It looks like he’s in pain, or preparing for it. So Josh leans back in, letting his lips meet his jaw, his ears, his forehead. He doesn’t try to do much else. He pulls his hips back, removing as much skin contact as he can. 

 

“Okay. Where’s your lube?” Josh asks, as casually at he can. Tyler opens his eyes filled with questions. They’re pink rimmed. 

 

“Uh, like, um. Like lotion?”

 

“No, like lubrication. KY? Like for this whole thing.” Tyler stares up from his back on the bed, his underwear still tenting obscenely, his breathing a little too shallow. Josh understands in one quick second and he almost jumps off the bed. He pulls back further, trying to prop himself up on the backs of his ankles. It makes his joints groan but he has to give Tyler space, let him think about what’s going on. 

 

“You don’t...you’ve never...with a guy?” He asks, the question unformed and unimaginable. Tyler bites his lip and raises his shoulders. One of the shrugs that mean anything you want it to mean. 

 

“Um. Is that an issue?” Tyler echoes his earlier words. He tries his shark smile but it looks sheepish instead. All the confidence gone, all that’s left is dilated pupils and his blush. Josh has never wanted anything more. His heart is pounding inside his chest. 

 

“No. Not an issue, but if you want things to go, um, smoothly, we need something to help.” Josh looks down at him, holding himself up as best he can. “How do you, uh, you know. Jerk off?” 

 

“Spit?” Tyler says, one eye narrowing, his expression pricelessly innocent. “In the shower too.” 

 

“And you’ve never…”

 

“Never.” 

 

“With a guy.” 

 

Tyler shrugs again. 

 

“Okay.” Josh tries again, “Well we’re gonna have to order some lube and try some other time then, or I can get some from my place. Or I can just go and buy some.” Tyler’s face is red, the color of a ripe apple or a fire hydrant. The blush of arousal turned to the deep tone of embarrassment. 

 

“Sorry.” 

 

“It’s okay. No biggie. I can go to my place, if you want.” 

 

“I don’t want you to leave.” 

 

“Okay. well we can wait. It’s okay.” Josh gives his most underused smile, the one he used to use to disarm a date’s parents or charm a bartender into a free drink. It works a little, but feels rusty and out of place on him. Tyler squints up at him and accepts it.   


 

“But, um.” Tyler’s fingers are back to twisting in each other and Josh waits, watching as Tyler squirms under him, between his legs in nothing but his briefs and tie. “I’m still, ugh.” He moans when Josh understands and fingers the outside of his underwear. He runs one finger up and down his length. Ty in return shudders in a full body convulsion kind of way. 

 

“Yeah? I see that.” He grins, leaning forward one more time, breathing into Tyler’s ear. This close he can see tiny white stains on the sheets, can smell old shampoo, can feel Tyler’s tiny little baby hairs tickling his face. “I can help you there at least.” He hums into his ear, then he’s gone, pushing himself up. 

 

He crawls backwards on the bed until he legs dangle off, then he pulls Tyler’s shaking thighs to him. His underwear are bright, neon yellow with little blue lines. They make Josh smile wildly, even as he tugs them down. Ty lifts his hips to help but every inch of his body shakes. 

 

When Josh finally gets the briefs off he can see Ty’s dick, hard and waiting and dripping precum. It’s as dark as the rest of his body and perfect. He gives it one long slow lick, base to tip and then pops the head into his mouth like he’s been doing it his whole life. He’s only given a handful or so blowjobs. He’s gotten enough to understand what to do though and hears Tyler sucking in air through his mouth, gasping and writhing on the bed. 

 

Josh smiles every time Tyler talks, it’s too sweet, too much, it’s like the candy isle and soda pop and ice cream all in his words as his fingers rest on Josh’s head unsure what to do next. Ty gives these half praises, half moans, half adorations.  _ That’s so good. I’ve never, it’s so much. I can’t. Joshie. Please, oh, gosh.  _ He just pushes and pulls himself against Ty’s cock, letting his nose hit the base and sitting there. The seconds he rests, letting his throat try to adapt is worth it because Tyler stops breathing altogether. 

 

He sucks gently, like he did  to his neck and chest and lips and Tyler lets out some kind of sound that sounds almost like crying. He lets all his air out like a deflated balloon. It’s only been a few minutes at most, Josh just bobbing up and down with his fingers wrapping and unwrapping around whichever parts aren't in his mouth but he can feel Ty’s balls jerking in response to his presence.  His mouth isn’t even tired yet. 

 

“Oh, no. I’m gonna. I think.”

 

Josh hums his response into the soft curly dark hair of Tyler’s pelvis. At his base he pokes his tongue out of his occupied mouth and touches just enough of his balls that Tyler’s grabbing his hair, moaning and breathing like he’s underwater. Then he’s coming, and it’s not stopping and it’s all Josh can do not to drown. He swallows and swallows and swallows again, until he feels his stomach is full. 

 

When he finally pulls away there’s long wet strings connecting his lips to Tyler’s slowly softening cock. 

 

“You taste so good.” He whispers and Tyler is breathing heavy. It’s like he never heard him. He does get a whole body shudder again from his practiced porn lines. 

 

“Thank you.” Tyler says, his voice is far away. His eyes blown wide, Josh just grins. 


	20. ○

 

“Do you have a new name?” Tyler asks from the other room, his voice is an echo that bounces off of every wall in the apartment and lands inside Josh's ear. Laying on the bed or the floor or painting his hands again Ty seems to far away. Josh is trying to pick up, just a little. Ty’s been in a mood for a while now, one of his secluded  _ don’t even look at me  _ moods where he hides away inside himself and all Josh can do is encourage him to occasionally eat, drink, or stumble from the bed to the bathroom. Not like it helps at all. Josh can see all of Ty's ribs on the few moments when he can catch a glance and his last ten sleeps have occurred on the couch.   


 

They haven’t even touched in what seems like days. The smell in the bedroom is like rotting fruit. Josh isn't sure he wants to touch Tyler right now even if he has the chance.   


 

“Uh, yeah.”  Josh calls, tossing Tyler’s dirty paper plates into a large black bag. It’s garbage day sometime, so he may as well collect everything and at least drop it off outside the apartment’s door. His comment isn’t a lie, he knows he has some other name locked up inside himself. Has been pushing a few around that he liked. Jeff or Ryan maybe. Ryan sounds good. He’s not lying, he’s just not committed to his new alter ego. He's more committed to disinfecting and disengaging.   


 

“Okay, that’s good.” His voice is muffled. Josh knows he’s got the covers over his face no matter what he’s doing. He hopes it doesn’t have much to do with the paint, these are the last clean sheets they have and he doesn’t want to order anymore today. That would mean either sleeping in the black tarry mess or stripping the sheets and sleeping without them.  He isn't sure why he thinks he'll be sleeping in the bed any time soon. He isn't even sure if the sheets are still clean. He wants to keep talking but isn’t sure where to push the conversation. 

 

“Okay, so what’s your new name?”

 

“I told you, it’s not _my_ new name. It’s not me. It’s somebody else.” Ty calls out, his words clearer as if this was important enough to poke his head from the hole. 

 

“Okay, okay.” Josh holds his breath as he tries to unattach a paper plate from the countertop. Strawberry syrup is smeared all over it like bloodstains. “I’m sorry.” He can hear Tyler rolling his eyes all the way from here. The paper lets go of the stone with a soft pop. He wants to throw up but doesn't.   


 

“I want you two to meet.” He says, his words echoing with sickening strands of deja vu coating it. This time it’s all Tyler’s voice though, nothing new or unusual. Just his high warbly siren-song  voice. “When will I get to meet yours?” Josh thinks. 

 

“Uh. When do you want them to meet? Like here? Tomorrow?” 

 

“No.” Tyler shouts. He’s louder than he should be, he’s coming towards the doorway. “Not here. This is our place. They need to meet somewhere else. Find out if they like each other.” Josh thinks he’s going to come into the kitchen, can hear his footsteps coming closer. Instead the bedroom door rattles inside it's frame. He hears the lock click into place and he’d be lying if he says he’s not mad. Even during the worst of the moods Ty never locks any doors to Josh. The door may be shut but never ever has it been locked.   


 

Josh wants to run to the door and pound on it but he doesn’t. As angry as he is he’s not letting it phase him, instead he continues to pluck trash from Tyler’s massive multi functional room, dragging his feet across the floor. He waits and waits and waits. He wants to hear the soft clicking of the lock disengaging. Wants Tyler to come out and drape himself around Josh and tell him everything is fine. 

 

Instead he hears Tyler slamming around inside the bedroom, and he cleans house. It sounds like Ty is throwing himself against the walls. Josh ignores it the best he can.   


 

“Meet tomorrow?” Tyler finally shouts through the door, “He needs to get ready.” He finishes. Josh nods, then forgets Tyler can’t see him. They’ve been in the same room for so long he doesn’t remember Tyler’s not here to respond. 

 

“Okay, sure.” Josh says, and he assumes they’re going to go out for dinner and pretend talk over something overpriced and under seasoned until they both need to leave out of combined panic attacks. They’ve done it once or twice before, it’s just been a while. A very long while. 

 

“Okay. How about the Lime?” 

 

“The Lime?” Josh calls back, setting down his half full black bag. He asks if only to clarify what he never thought he would hear coming from Tyler's mouth.   


 

“Do you know where it is?” 

 

“Yeah. How the hell do you know where it is?” He doesn’t mean to sound irritated but it comes off that way. The Lime isn’t somewhere Josh can picture Tyler going to. In any mood.   


 

He walks to the door and puts his ear to the wood, he rests his hands against the frame. He breaths. He tries to convey his utter sense of disbelief through the thick of the dead tree but it doesn’t work. For what it’s worth Tyler almost sounds as panicked on his side.

 

“I just know. I wasn’t always like this.” He hisses through the door. “Sorry.” He whispers, almost to himself inside his locked box. Josh imagines Tyler's fingers are fanned out and touching the wood on his side - he puts his own hand up to mirror where it might be.   


 

“It’s okay.” Josh whispers back, almost to himself. “Why do you want to meet there?” The truth is he’ll follow Tyler anywhere. The truth is he’s concerned with how concerned he is about Tyler. The truth is he’s hanging on every word. 

 

“He asked.” 

 

“Okay. When?”

 

“Be there by ten.” 

 

“Ten?” 

 

“Okay.”  Josh presses himself against the door tighter, he hears the soft whoosh of Tyler’s flowery kimono as he moves around his room like a ghost. Then he hears it coming towards him, he takes a  step backwards. If Ty’s ready to come out he doesn’t want to be on top of him within a second. He hears the sound of the lock. Hears a doorknob turn. He holds his breath. He waits.

 

Instead of Tyler, his phone slides out on the floor. It skids across the ground then bumps against his bare toes, it’s cold and the screen is dark. It seems like a sacrifice. There is black paint flecked on the sides.   


 

Tyler shuts the door and clicks the lock back into place. 

 

“So I’m suppose to sleep on the couch tonight?” He asks, leaving out the  _'again'_ because he knows it won't help the case. Either way he knows that he doesn’t want to reach down and touch his phone. He knows what Tyler is going to say before he says it but doesn’t want to hear it. Doesn’t want to understand what it means. The truth is he’ll do anything Tyler asks him to do, but that doesn't mean he won’t be afraid. 

 

“J, I’d rather you go home tonight.”

 

Josh hasn’t gone home in a long time. If he’s being honest with himself it’s at least been a few months. It’s been weeks since they left the apartment building at all. He’s trying to pretend like the idea of going home doesn’t terrify him. He wants to tell him that this is home now, these four walls, the paint stained sheets and sticky paper plates. He wants to say to Tyler that less than all that it’s Tyler himself that makes it home. That the sprawling land mass on the other side of town isn't anything to him. That he would give anything to sleep on the couch in the comfortable closeness of the only person who _gets him._  


 

“Why do I have to go?” He asks instead, his hands back on the door before he even knows he took the steps and placed his face against the wood. “Can I please just stay here? Please.” His lips kiss the door as he pleads. 

 

“We need our place tonight, maybe tomorrow night you can come back. If you get along.” Tyler sounds muffled again, but also different. He sounds gravely, sad. There are tears in his voice but there’s also a resolve. It’s like Josh is talking to two different people. Two people who are fighting, not at all on the same page. 

 

As much as he’s afraid to leave the apartment, suddenly he’s afraid to stay. 

 

“Okay.” He agrees, pulling himself away. He looks around the room, picking up his phone. Finding a shirt to slip on. If he texts Ashley she’ll never leave him alone. She will haunt him forever to check in and make sure he’s not slipping into old habits. She'll never let him come back here again. If he texts Jordan he’ll show up tomorrow. He texts Abby. She’s waiting in her car in front of the apartment in fifteen minutes. When he finally makes it downstairs and finds her in the car she stares at him like he’s a stranger. 

 

Mostly he's amazed. Neck deep in Tyler's world there's no outside. He's only half shocked to see the world still turns. It feels like they live on a different planet from everyone else but Abby arrives in less time than it takes to watch Divorce Court. It stuns him. The air is cold and shocking inside his lungs when he takes a few deep breaths, watching his exhales form clouds.  The sensations are nothing like he remembers and he finds himself really struggling to place when he was last outside. It seemed like it was warm, with a heat pressing on his skin. Now it's pitch black and icy.   


 

“Josh, are you okay?” She asks breaking his fog. It’s weird because he’s gone so long without the buzzing he was sure the bees had been exterminated but they start back up without fail. He nods his head and gets into the car, his hips ache. It’s too dark outside and his head is full. She doesn’t drive, just looks. They sit in the turning lane where she had pulled over and Josh tries not to look like a dog that’s been kicked. 

 

“Josh.” She tries again, her eyes won’t come off him, “I haven’t seen you in months. It’s been a half year. What happened?” She asks. Her hands are on the wheel. “You look...not so great Josh.” She has a way of using his name far too frequently in conversations without it sounding condescending. She’s the only person who uses it so frequently. It's like those people with a missing child; repeat the name enough to humanize the victim to the attacker. Josh can see her marching up the steps and screaming Josh's name into Tyler's ears until it's not even a word, just noise.   


 

“I’m okay. I just, needed some time away. It was good for me.” He says, trying to think of what words would end the conversation quickest. He wishes he had called Jordan instead, who would be distracted with his phone and friends and music. 

 

“Josh, you don’t look okay.” She says, her voice soft. He doesn’t look at her, instead he pulls out his phone. He turns on his camera, front facing and damned if she’s not right. His eyes are red rimmed. Not from crying, just red.  His hair is wild, much too long and grown curly around the nape of his neck. It’s never been as long as it is now. His lips are chewed raw. It's freezing outside but he's sweating. He looks at least twenty pounds lighter. He looks sick.  It's like he's been sick for a very long time.   


 

He's looked at himself to shave but he hasn't faced the whole picture until today. 

 

“I’m okay.” He tries again, he puts all his power into his words. “Don’t tell Mom about this okay?” Abby looks at him, she sighs. “I’m okay.” He says again, as if it’s some soothing balm. 

 

“Okay, but Josh, can you answer one question for me, please?”  Josh nods, his throat feels tight. He closes the camera app. “Where are your shoes?” 

 

He never even noticed he’d left barefoot. 

 

They drive to his house in silence. 


	21. ←

 

Josh had purchased his house because like many things in his life, his mother had told him to. He had been bouncing from couch to couch for a year when the accident happened. Afterwards, when he was done with hospital beds and short term rehab facility he’d went back to his parent’s house, like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs. He didn't know where else to go or what else to do and Laura wouldn't force her oldest child out on the streets.   


 

She didn’t want him gone, per say. She was always more than happy to have him home, have him sleep in his cramped single bed with his toes dangling off the edge. She only wanted what she felt would be best for him and she just thought it would be best if he moved on. 

 

His mother suggested over the dinner table one night once the first installments of checks came in that maybe he should look into housing.   


 

“I love you. I would never make you leave. I just think if you were to get your own place you would feel better.” She said, her fork twirling under cooked spaghetti around the tines. Her words implied that he felt bad about staying at home. Josh felt bad about a lot of things, staying with his parent’s wasn’t one.  It was a means to an end and it made things easier. He didn't have to go anywhere, his parents brought him food, clean clothes, all the essential items he couldn't buy online like multiple twelve packs of beer to wash away all the painful memories. “You can start to move on. Maybe find a girl, a nice one this time.” She narrowed her eyes slightly. Josh sighed.   


 

They went looking that weekend, Laura taking Josh house to house to see realtors and open houses. In town, out of town, around town. Above storefronts and with pools and with deals for insurance. Carpets, hardwood flooring, apartments with four bedrooms and lofts above indie coffeehouses. Pink walls, popcorn ceiling, no pets, no smoking, dishwasher included, prime real estate. Laura took notes. Josh only wanted something without a lot of steps. 

 

Josh finally agreed to one, mostly to get the noises to stop. It wasn’t large, about ten miles from the edge of the city. One story, a garage, too many rooms he’d never use. Two bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms, living room, dining room, kitchen room, spare rooms. It was sprawling and Laura oohed and awed while they walked around and saw the vast lawn, the one mile long drive way, the mailbox made to look like a birdhouse.  His second check had come in already and he had wads of money in his pocket.   


 

He paid in cash, moved in next week with Abby’s help. Ashley stopped by that night with a bottle of champagne. Jordan came over the next day, trying to swing by for lunch but instead arriving for dinner with two boxes of takeout food. 

 

Josh never felt more alone. 

 


	22. →

 

Abby dropped him off as the green lights on the dashboard clicked off and on and Josh couldn’t help but look. Since Tyler had mentioned time it was everywhere. Eleven forty two. Abby should be asleep, should be getting ready for classes the next day. Instead she was toting her brother around town. Her eyes looked tired. Her white knuckles on the steering wheel told the truth her voice hid.   


 

“I’m so sorry.” Josh mumbled when they pulled in front of his house, getting out of the car his feet were frozen on the pavement. His toes fanned out on the dark grey, icy and bitter. The air around him puffed out of his lungs, visible to the world.   


 

“Josh, I love you. It’s okay.” She said through a yawn, both hands on the wheel, still. “Just let me know if there’s anything I can do okay?” He stood, stretching with the door open.His back cracked. His knees joined into the choir.   


 

“Of course, love you too.” He hushed, waving then shutting the door gently. He struggled to his own front door with a unusual sense of foreboding.   


 

This would be a long night. 


	23. ←

 

“What happens when we die?” Tyler asks, his legs are on either side of Josh’s head and Josh? Well he can’t breath. Ty’s pinning down Josh arms with his knees but Josh is stronger and with just a little bit of pressure manages to force his body to cooperate. Tyler flips through the air, Josh slams him down against the stripped mattress. It’s a forced version of playful. 

 

“Uh,” Josh huffs, out of breath as he sits on top of Tyler, squirming underneath him on his front. “We get buried.” He squints his eyes and watches the body under him struggle for a second. He pushes his knees gently on the back of Tyler’s elbows. It only hurts a little. His fingers play against his exposed rib cage. Tyler sounds like he’s dying underneath him, but he doesn’t stop. Josh tickles his ribs and armpits and thighs. His fingertips have a mind of their own and they refuse to cooperate.   


 

“No, not like that.” Tyler says, muffled as he tries to lift his head up. Josh presses his face back into the bedding. Tyler struggles. He groans. Josh doesn't stop his own attack.   


 

“Okay, well our hearts stop. And our lungs don’t work anymore. And allllllllll our muscles - “ 

 

“Stop.” Tyler gasps out, Josh rocks his hips back and forth, laughing and forcing Tyler into the mattress further. “Stop.” He tries again, louder, but it’s all blocked by the white mat under his mouth. Josh presses his fingers down on the back of his head. He doesn't know why but it's something he feels compelled to do.   


 

“Then they ship us out to a graveyard and dump our bodies and we rot down to the core and - “

 

Tyler isn’t moving anymore. He’s just laying, still, barely breathing, letting Josh do whatever he wants to do and suddenly that’s scary. Josh kneels on the bed, then gets off Ty’s bare back, seeing one large dark red Josh shaped spot where he had been. He presses on Tyler’s arms and turns him over only to find tears in his eyes. 

 

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, worried. 

 

“That’s not what I meant.” He sniffles, his lips quivering. “Do you think I’m gonna get to Heaven?” He asks, pronouncing it like a proper noun. Josh just looks at him, laying there, his eyes staring up at the dark ceiling, not really looking. He sucks air noisily through his nose. What could you possibly say in this situation other than the words that escape Josh's lips.   


 

“Of course you will.”

 


	24. →

 

The only way he knows to pass time is through the television. It's a crutch but he needs to all the same. He’s turned on all the lights and tried to chase the demons away but there is a shadow that looks and sounds just like Tyler that he can’t seem to force out.  It sits beside him on the couch and crouches in the corner of the shower when he’s pissing in the bathroom. It tucks itself under the blanks of his bed, crawls under the table inside his kitchen. It calls to him to tell him how weak he is, but that isn't Tyler. Not really. It's a siren song he can get lost inside of so he turns the TV volume up until he can't hear the way his own heartbeat causes blood to whoosh inside his ears.   


 

He finds black paint flecked into the creases of his sweatpants.  His fingers are still stick with sugar that will never ever come off, it's melded with his molecules. He grabs a bottle of water in the fridge but it tastes like corn syrup so he vomits into the sink until his stomach is totally empty and tosses the water in the trash. Every noise makes him hopeful that at any second his phone will ring or Tyler would burst through his door. 

 

But the truth is Tyler doesn’t even know where he lives. 

 

The truth is there was no reason for him to even give Tyler his cell phone number. He thinks he should call Tyler.   


 

The absolute truth is he doesn’t know Tyler’s number. 

 

So he tunes it out. He’s not tired, really. Imagining sleeping in his bed alone with the Tyler ghost makes his stomach somersault inside him so he just drags all his sheets and blankets out to the living room and builds himself a nest on the couch. There’s an X files marathon on. He’s seen every episode at least twice. It's too loud and the lights are all still on and he wants to scream until his mouth bleeds. He doesn't want to do this; this is withdrawal for an addict. He feels how he felt when he saw his best friend get lowered into the ground - like he wants to die. Scully answers the phone and Mulder talks. Scully tells him not to do anything stupid. Josh thinks he's stupid. Thinks he's fallen in love with a shadow instead of a real person.   


 

The bottom line is that he’s afraid to go back to the apartment and find Tyler gone.   


 

It's not so much a fear but as the night progresses he knows it's true. No matter what happens when he goes back to that apartment the Tyler he knows will be gone. He's going to be erased and will only live inside Josh's fragmented brain. He can't go back but he doesn't want to go forward. 

 

He can only fall into a fitful sleep once he sees the sunlight chasing the shadows out through his wide open windows. 


End file.
